The First Time Pt. 03

There was an agonising long pause, as he held my hand and kept it there, on the knot. He was referring to how I had behaved last week, with those guys, with him. He was wanting the slut that was inside me, the Thing that loved the way he adored me and what I could do for him. The Thing I didn't fully understand. But even though I felt shameful at what he was alluding to, the thing I could become, again, I was full of pride knowing he was hard for me. I looked down, seeing him in this condition, his hand on mine, stroking it, with affection. He was so patient. Mike titled my chin up to look at him, my eyes were fixed on his cock.

"Yes, it's hard because of you. I think any man standing where I am would be hard for you. Especially, because of what you said last week and because of what I'd like to do."

I swallowed a hard gulp of embarrassment, taking in his praise, blushing at what he was implying.

"And you've dressed incredibly sexy. Not over the top. Suggestive. I like that, Steve." I felt his finger on my chin, gliding around and up my jaw line, going down my neck. "I really like that." I felt the hairs on my neck stand up, my heart beating in my ears.

"You didn't see yourself last week did you?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "How could you?" His smile was warm, and his eyes sparkled as he stared at me. "You should have seen yourself on that dance floor. Everyone was looking at you and wanting you. I watched you for at least ten minutes. I was so fucking hard while I watched you."

I swallowed anxiously, the praise making me weak, making the slut emerge.

"Just show me what you wanted to feel," his voice lowered to a soft whisper. "Do you want to show me what you wanted to do?"

I looked down, and realized my hand was stroking his cock through the dressing gown.

"You looked ready. Are you ready? You know what to do, just do what you have to. Show me what you want to do."

I felt my legs buckle as I crumbled before him, sinking to my knees. I felt light-headed. I knew what I wanted, but my shame didn't stop me. I watched, I felt I was outside my body, my hands on the dressing gown knot, opening it. I could feel his hand on my shoulder almost reassuring me. Untying it, I looked down and the opening parted, slightly, revealing what was beneath.

"I'm s-still scared," I said fighting the fear, desperate to not let the fear win. I looked up at him and he nodded.

"Shh, it's okay to be scared, you just do what you need to do. You don't even need to stay if you don't want to, if that's easier for you. Tonight, I want to be a gentleman for you, but I need you to take the first step." He smiled that soft reassuring smile as I began to fondle him with my trembling hand though the dressing gown. "I understand your fear, but don't let it run away with you."

There was a tortuous pause as I thought about opening his gown, I fought against doing it, fought against wanting to see it, taste it and adore it. I knew if I started to stroke him, I wouldn't be able to stop myself.

"It's natural to be scared," he said with encouragement, as if he understood my state of mind. "Just remember, the enemy of fear is panic." I felt his hand take my shaking hand and place it between the opening of his robe on his dressing gown. He let his hand hang there at the side while he stroked my cheek, my trembling hand slowly sliding along his hard cock. "Don't panic. I won't hurt you."

My hands shook, my breathing ragged and irregular, I was all over the place. My fingers curled themselves around his cock, trying to disguise my hand shaking. His voice lowered to a barely audible whisper, but it was firm. "You remember the safe word don't you?" It took me a moment to respond.

I nodded, confirming I did.

Mercy.

"Good. Tonight I am going to let you know what you want to be." His voice was soft and warm, but then it changed, subtle and effortless. It was steadfast. "Now, show me."

I fought it as best I could, but he was right. I wanted it. I could feel him in my mouth, even before I opened the gown. I swear I could taste him, smell his scent. I felt the rush in my mouth, my heart thumping like a scared rabbit, ready to flee. I opened the gown with false bravado, desperate to cover my fear as much as I could. I was shaking inside. I didn't even look down. I looked directly into his eyes and I opened my mouth and took him into it.

As I filled my mouth with him I realized it had been almost two weeks since our first night together, the thought overwhelmed me. I was internally giddy. My emotions, held close to me for so long, I felt them give way. I heard my timid whimpers. The whimpers of denial, and final realization that I needed this, as my feelings released themselves like a breaking dam. I moaned with my mouth full, my hand wrapping around his cock, stroking it, desperate as I sucked like a man possessed. I was an addict getting his fix, as if my very being depended on it.

I closed my eyes, trying to focus on what I felt as my mouth sliding up and down his cock, taking him as deep as I could manage. He groaned in appreciation, audible groans rewarding me. My hand was slippery with saliva and I worked my mouth and hands in unison. I wanted to savour what I felt. I wanted to tuck it away, bottle it up inside me so I could try and figure out later why I wanted it. Why I enjoyed this. Why I felt compelled to do it, but also, why I loved the feeling and needed to grasp hold on it.

He looked at me smiling as he groaned, running his hands through my hair, my eyes on his. I behaved like the slut I could be. The slut he wanted. The Thing.

"That's right," Mike said gently and then his voiced changed. It became a commanding growl. "You show me. Go on. God you're good."

I whimpered at his words at that, my mouth filling itself, gorging myself on him. I felt shameless, but, I also felt free. The praise egging me on. I was doing this because I wanted to do this. I wasn't doing this to get something, to ease a woman's knickers off, to make them trust me. No, I was doing this because, I felt safe and adored, it was that simple. He was in this state, hard, for me and I wanted to show him how that made me feel. Show him I was flattered. It was literal, physical praise. He could have any guy he wanted, and yet he was willing to play gentle, for me. I wanted to reward his patience with me. His gentle attention and the respect he showed me, made me do this and it made me feel content.

I should have been ashamed of myself like this, on my knees, sucking a man's cock. I should have been disgusted with myself. This time I wasn't drunk. This time I was consenting. There was no excuse. He wasn't leading me along or testing me. But the truth is, it didn't matter, I was loving it. What I was fearful of was being overwritten, relearned.

"Undo your jeans for me," said Mike, with gentle authority.

I looked up a him, scared, because you see, I wasn't hard. I know that sounds crazy, but I was still scared, still fighting inside my mind. Feeling dirty and doing things I still didn't understand, but I fully understood what I was doing. I knew I needed this, but I didn't understand why. I lifted my mouth off him, his cock covered in my saliva.

"I-I'm not hard." I said, embarrassed and dizzy.

He ran his hands through my hair, smiling.

"You don't need to be hard to enjoy it, do you baby?"

I don't understand!

I shook my head, stroking him gently and looking up at him for answers. It didn't make sense. How can I possibly want to do this, if I am not hard? But the truth was, him being hard for me was all I needed, all I wanted. It made me swell inside, mentally.

Once again, I opened my mouth, sliding my lips along the head of his cock, easing it into my mouth as I stroked him with soft fingers and lips. This time, there was none of the sudden gorging that I had done mere moments ago. My hand wrapped around the base of his cock, I stroked him, moving my hand in long soft strokes as I took more of him into my mouth. I unbuttoned my jeans.

"Pull down your shorts."

I did as he commanded, it felt much easier when he told me what to do. I pulled down my shorts, easing my cock out, which was soft, but on its way to semi hard. Encouraged, I gripped his cock with more force, stroking him as I did so.

I loved how his hard cock felt in my mouth, in my hands. Moving my mouth and head, I changed the angle, enjoying this subtle change to what I was doing, feeling like a slut. I loved that this seemed dirty or wrong, but that just made me moan between his praising groans. My hand began to corkscrew up and down the shaft of his cock as I took as much of him as I could, the soft reluctance building as I hit my limit. I still stared at him. He put his hands on his bathrobe and slid it off of himself, leaving him naked.

I fondled his balls, something that I hadn't done the weeks before. They felt quite large. I mean, I could see they were large, but they felt quite heavy. I could feel myself smiling at the thoughts that ran through my mind. I closed my eyes as my hand moved up to his tummy, sliding up his abdomen, still sucking his cock long and slow.

"Show me how much you can take. Go on. I know you don't want to do it, but would you try it? Just for me? Show me how deep you want it in you."

The words he was using, the whole situation, the way he conjured it in my mind, I could feel my cock slowly beginning to swell. Yes I was horrified, yes I was still scared, but with my hand on his chest, on his cock, I never felt him trying to take charge, push more in, and I didn't panic.

Show him the slut. Show him what you want to be.

I tried to take more. God I tried. I felt it hitting the back of my throat, the engorged head bumping at the back of my mouth. I gurgled and gagged as I did it, trying to please him. Trying to show him that if he praised me, I was willing and willing to try. With my mouth full, I was breathing in short breaths through my nose.

"That's it. Christ! That's so good. Show me that lovely, sexy slut you want to be."

I moaned as he said that, the sheer naughtiness and praise making me feel sluttier. It made it easier. Made me enjoy it more. The tone wasn't condescending, or malicious, it was gentle and reaffirmed, to me he was going to be a gentleman. He wasn't going to take advantage of me, use me or hurt me.

Please. Please don't be rough and pull down my jeans and boxers. Don't smack my ass.

My cock was now swelling steadily. I could feel the gentle throb as it got harder. It lengthened in slow throbbing stages. My moans were now whimpering groans as I worked him, desperate to please and follow his commands while my mind ran riot.

"Lift up your top to your chest."

My hand on his cock left for a brief moment. Lifting my t-shirt up my chest, almost above my nipples, I bobbed my mouth up and down the tip, doing it as fast as I could. I felt his big patient hands slide down my back and slowly take over as my hand returned to work his cock. He pulled it over my head, making me stop sucking his cock, my arms in the air, surrendering myself and then let it drop to the floor.

My hand eased onto his chest, exploring his skin and his chest. I could feel his strength, feel his heart beating and it excited me more. His big hands stroked my shoulders and arms as I returned with vigour, my mouth moving up and down as I took as much of him as I could. Again, I moaned and whimpered as I felt the large head hitting the back of my throat, his encouragement brought forth my emotions. Occasionally I gagged, but still I persevered. His groans were getting louder and enticed me to continue.

"Do you want me to come baby?" he said, his tone slightly ragged. "Pull down your jeans a little. I want to see that unbelievably sexy ass of yours while you do it. You know what I'm going to be thinking of don't you?"

Using one hand I pulled my jeans down at the back, my ass clear for him to see as he towered over me.

Baby...

I loved what he was saying. I loved what he was making me do. I loved how it was making me feel. I felt like a submissive, or rather, what I thought a submissive might feel. It had never occurred to me that a man could feel this, which I know sounds ridiculous, but it's the truth. I was a young man, you see, naive. It just felt right, being on my knees, serving him. I loved how his groans got louder. Yes, of course I wanted to do this, but him guiding me, praising me, teaching me, it just made perfect sense. It made it feel easier, the veneration drove me and I felt content.

I returned my hand to stroking him, the other tracing back and forth over his nipples. Saliva was dribbling from my chin as I worked his cock. Nearly all eight inches of him was in my mouth. I tried everything I could think of. My mouth was simply around him, as deep as I could take, sucking slightly harder than I had done before, trying to relax my throat, cupping his balls. Stroking his cock, my motions got rougher, faster, the need to please consuming me.

I don't know if I can say it. God, don't make me say it. I want you to come. Please, don't make me beg.

My cock was now fully hard. And I mean hard. It was that agonizing, but pleasurable, feeling when you're so hard it can hurt. I have always said to people when they say guys think with their cocks, that's not true. That's not the way it works. You merely comply to what it wants, to what it needs and you obey. You have no choice.

"That's right baby," his voice ragged and strained. "You're working it good." I could hear the stress in his voice as he continued, "That's it, you show me."

Mike closed his eyes for a moment and I was full of pride, knowing he was fighting. He was fighting what I was doing, what I was giving him. The praise fuelled the Thing inside me. I worked his cock faster, as he groaned louder. He lifted his hand to perhaps stroke my hair, or my shoulder, but I took my free hand and held his wrist, stopping him, firmly.

Tonight I am going to be what you want me to be. What I want to be. You wanted me to show you? I'll show you!

He cursed with a low growl, as I held his wrist. It shook against my grip, fighting. Looking up I saw him close his eyes again, him shaking his head, soft salty tears in my eyes, as I took everything of him I could do. He leaned his head back, and I saw him clenching his teeth. My wet hand, gripping his cock. My lips moved faster as my head bobbed up and down.

"S-Steve," he said through clenched teeth, shaking his head. "Fuck!"

Mike looked into my eyes as I continued, looking down at me working him, watching me. Watching the thing please him, knowing he was about to come. My jaw ached, the muscles starting to refuse to work. In my mouth, in my wrists, everything was aching, sore and spasming, but I didn't stop. I could feel his clenched fist rising and unsteady, desperately fighting me.

"Anything you want," he said with an audible grimace, his voice breaking and faltering. "Do it! Do it now!"

I wanted to watch the fruits of my labour. I wanted to watch him come. See the effort I had put in and what it resulted in. I gripped his cock, tighter, my mouth sucked in desperate hunger and then eased off him as his groans reached a crescendo. He never took his eyes off me, as I stroked his cock, aiming it at my chest. I saw him close his eyes as I felt the throbbing and jerking in my hand and I watched him come.

He roared loud, with spurt after spurt, as he came on my chest, my hand sliding up and down his saliva covered cock. I felt shameless, but oddly, I couldn't have stopped myself if I had tried. It made it all the more erotic for me. I watched as his hands tightened into fists, clenched and shaking, he continued to roar. I was fascinated, as the hot sticky come landed on my chest. My strokes slowed to his cries, keeping in time with them. I held his wrist tight, it in a constant fight against me. A few more thick ropes landed on me and I felt giddy, light headed. Not being drunk I felt the rush.

What is the rush for a cocksucker? It's excitement. It's adrenaline. It's pure ecstasy. It's not infinite, but all consuming. A peek of ecstasy that is mental, and yet physical at the same time. And I realized right there, it is utterly addictive.

I slowed more, until finally taking him again into my mouth, sucking and taking everything. My heart thumping like crazy in my chest. This time I was slow and gentle, wanting him to feel adored, like he made me feel. Worshipped. I let his wrist go, his hand immediately gripping my shoulder as I slowed more. His cock softening in my mouth,

Within a moment, he lifted my mouth off of his cock, stepped back and knelt down, facing me, his knees around mine. I gazed at his softening cock. He lifted my chin to make me look at him, his chest heaving from the groans and his orgasm.

"I knew you could be a slut," he said still trembling. "And the most beautiful, sexy slut at that."

I blushed crimson at his words and how I felt rewarded. I felt shameful and yet also somehow full of praise. I felt his hands reach around the back of me, then sliding down to cup my ass, and grip it firmly. He kissed my neck, and his heavy breathing regulated.

"I knew you could do more than you thought you could, Baby."

I looked down at my chest, as he kissed my neck. Seeing his come on me, feeling like such a slut, but I felt so proud of myself. I could feel the air cooling it, drying it as his big hands caressed my ass, the kisses on my neck and lips, rewarding and gentle as his hands eased into my boxers, pulling them fully down to expose my ass.

"Come through to the bathroom," he whispered between those erotic kisses as his hands fondled my ass more "I have a present for you. If you want to stay a bit longer. But we'll have one thing to do first."

I nodded, dizzy and feeling shaky as the rush began to fade. I didn't quite understand what he was referring to, the trust I had in him was overwhelming. He pulled me up with him. He laughed at me, staring at me with his come on my chest.

"You look like a beautiful slut. Do you feel like one?"

I nodded, the excitement I had felt mere moments ago, slowly receding. I looked up at him, feeling weak and powerless. He was only a bit taller than me, but right there, he seemed to tower over me.

"Lets get you cleaned up first," he said gesturing me to the bathroom, patting my bottom. "Then we'll see if you're ready."

-0-

Come on, come on, I want to be with you

Come on, come on, I won't get over you

I want to do just what you want me to

I got a dream and you can make it good

'Cause I, I'm fascinated by your love, boy

And I'm fascinated by your love toy

I'm fascinated by the way you make me feel

Company B, Fascinated

-0-

I walked as he escorted me, opening the door to a well lit, immaculate bathroom, not quite sure what he was going to do. He ran the shower, still holding my hand and pulled the shower curtain to shield us from the spray.

As the adrenaline faded, I felt supremely proud of myself. Proud I made him hard. Proud that I was good enough to make him come. And I was excited, excited inside myself, not just my cock, but my whole body, I just felt alive. I can't even explain it to you now, even if I tried, not fully, not exactly. You have to experience it to understand it.

He undressed me, cupping my ass and easing down my jeans and boxers. I pulled off my socks, him watching me as I did it, him naked and his flaccid cock hanging down. Mike stroked my cock for a few strokes, and then pulled the curtain back and took my hand, indicating for me to get in. I stepped in. He allowed me a moment before he too got in, pressing his body up against me. The water turned his come into a stick waxy like substance on my chest. Gently, he ran his hands over me, cleaning me. There was some shower gel in his hand, and he ran it over me, his hands slipped and slid all over me. The warm hot spray hit my chest, running the soap off me. He was right behind me now, guiding me. Mike turned me to the side so I faced the tiles of the wall. Lifting my hands by the wrists, he gently raised them up, moving behind me.